


Not The Desperate Type

by guestwho



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fraternity, Bottom Jensen, Closeted Character, Drug Use, Frat Boy Jared, Frat Boy Jensen, Homophobia, M/M, Misogyny, Top Jared, frat boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 16:59:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8924944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guestwho/pseuds/guestwho
Summary: Jared's party-animal reputation gets him accepted into the notorious Alpha Epsilon Pi house (or as they call it, APE) easier than a game of hopscotch - but what he doesn't expect to find there is someone who totally harshes his vibe: Jensen Ackles; a prude with a stick up his ass the size of Texas. Fortunately, Jared loves a challenge.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this in a week, so if there are any typos or errors just drop a comment and I'll fix it real quick.  
> I tagged this fic for homophobia because Alpha Epsilon Pi is pretty stereotypical when it comes to gay men, however I do not intend to offend anyone who is homosexual reading this. There isn't any harsh language or slurs thrown around, but nobody is openly homosexual in this story.

Jared wasn’t a frat house leader – not by a long shot.

He strictly opposed any kind of authoritative role – which perfectly described his past record of run-ins with the cops, suspensions, detentions, hating his father, hating his girlfriend’s father, etc. In fact, it was a miracle that he even managed to nab a scholarship to the University of Texas at Austin.

It was an even bigger miracle that he got accepted into Alpha Epsilon Pi – or as they called it, APE.

On second thought, maybe not.

_“Chug! Chug! Chug!”_

There was a small sea of frat boys around him chanting at Michael Rosenbaum who was currently being inducted into Alpha Epsilon Pi via a six-minute-long keg stand ritual. He sputters out at about six-and-a-half minutes – _not bad_ , Jared thinks, but he definitely went longer. He can still feel the bitter froth of PBR in the back of his throat.

“Alright ladies,” Christian Kane, their frat father, pats a deliriously happy Michael on the back as he steps up on the podium. “Tonight we celebrate are new brothers: Mikey Rose here, Jason Manns, What’s-His-Face in the back there, and Jay-Pad _._ But most importantly – the girls from Alpha Delta Phi coming over to party tonight! _”_

Whooping and hollering and drumming fills the basement they’re in so hard Jared swears the walls shake.

“Remember kids, we’ve only got one rule at APE,” Christian grins. “To go _APE SHIT!”_

Yeah, not that big of a miracle. Jared was really good at this part.

*

Jensen on the other hand, wasn’t.

Sure, he got into U-Texas all on his own, no problem, but getting into APE was all Christian’s doing. They were friends since high school – it would’ve seriously broken some bro-code to have not dragged Jensen along into his beer-and-skank infested world of hangovers, missed deadlines and morning sickness.

He would never tell anyone, but he kind of liked it. It was a nice break from term paper headaches. Jensen spent most of his time in his dorm room anyways, so partying with Christian wasn’t often, but when it did happen, he was more than happy Christian dragged him along.

Jensen was standing in the kitchen nursing his PBR when Jason stumbles over, hair damp with sweat and beer, reeking like a pig and grinning like one too. Jason was his dorm mate who had been dying to join APE for a while now.

“Man, you totally _missed_ it Jen! What the hell are you doing up here?” He cracks open another can for himself while his eyebrows accuse Jensen of murder.

“Someone’s happy,” Jensen muses. Jason’s head tips back and his throat undulates with beer.

“Dude, it was awesome.” He says eventually, voice wet and gurgley. “I’m so glad you put in the good word for me. I owe you one.”

“You can start with a shower.”

Jason gets a whiff of himself and groans with satisfaction. Jensen laughs and shakes his head, watching the guys spill out from the basement where they induct people.

“Lotta new guys,” He observes.

“ _Yess._ The numbers are growing.” Jason hisses ominously from beside him.

“Sure, if that’s what you wanna call them.”

Jason follows his gaze to the crowd gathered in the living room. His eyes fall on Jared Padalecki, smack dab in the middle of an arm wrestle with two other dudes at the same time like sailors. He finally gets the drop on one of them with a quick kick to the shin and suddenly a man-pile is born when the guys flop to the floor. Jared beats his chest like a silverback and people are cheering, shouting.

“Aw c’mon Jen, lighten up. He’s a pretty good guy. We all are.” Jason smacks his shoulder.

“I just don’t get how guys like that even make it to school,” He goes on, mouth lines deepening. “S’not like they ever did anything in life.”

“Look around you. Look where you _are,_ dude. Now’s not the time to get on your high horse.” Jason laughs. Jensen shrugs and drinks – he may be right, but that doesn’t mean Jensen’s wrong.

The doorbell goes off. Christian yells at someone to grab it and as soon as the door opens to reveal a line of beautiful sorority skirts, long hair and big lips (big _tits_ ) the house instantly turns into a zoo. Jensen cringes at the sharp excited squeals of girls being hefted up and carried into the house.

“Hey hey _hey!_ What are we, animals? Get the girls some beer!” Christian barks, and guys scurry to drag the keg up from the basement.

Jason nudges Jensen with his elbow. “See that chick there?”

“Dude, just go for it.” Jensen nearly groans. He knows how this goes – Jason’s gonna point to some short brunette named Madison and he’s gonna start listing off every fun fact there could ever be about a girl named Madison: she’s majoring in animal science, she’s on the volleyball team, she looks great in shorts…

“Nah,” He takes another swill. “I reek.”

“You wrote a song about her.”

“It’s not that good.”

“Pussy.”

“Fuck you, man! How about you go over there and hit on someone?”

Jensen doesn’t necessarily shrug so much as he looks back into the jungle before him and head-counts all the different girls there. He’s seen them before – lots of times, between classes. Nothing new there. The only new people here are the guys they just inducted. Jensen’s eyes fall on Jared.

Jared, standing in the middle of a bunch of guys looking like the king of the jungle. Voice loud, laugh like a donkey bray, hair a mess of long brown shag, clothes like he took his jeans out skateboarding every day, full of holes. Jared, the alter at which lesser frat boys for some reason worshipped even though he was just inducted. Jared, returning his gaze.

Jensen instantly looks back at Jason. “I’m not into the whole hot dog and hallway thing.”

“Asshole,” Jason laughs. “Ever since we met you haven’t gotten any tail, so don’t come at me.”

“Right,’ Jensen throws back another swallow, eyes still darting back.

He was still looking at Jensen. He was patting the shoulders of some guy, lips moving in shapes like _‘gonna get another’_ and sauntering towards the kitchen where all the coolers were. Jensen can feel himself internally groan.

“Guys got any of the hard stuff back here? Tryin’ to settle a bet.” Is what he asks when he finally makes it to Jensen and Jason.

“Check the cooler bro,” Jason nods towards the big red and blue ones behind them.

“Righteous,” Jared grins and dives in. Ice shuffles around noisily as he picks through and eventually drags out a fat bottle of tequila. He sets in down with a _thud_ on the counter that Jensen leans on.

“That’s Christian’s,” Jensen remarks. Jared’s hazel eyes narrow and he instantly regrets it.

“Yeah, and?”

“Just let him use it, Jen.” Jason mumbles, and Jensen sees the moment Jared catches his nickname. His shoulders tighten.

“Jen? Is that your name?” Jared tries to say it without laughing and fails.

“Is your name ass-hat?” Jensen replies. Jason smacks his arm.

“ _Whoa,”_ Jared raises his hands in surrender, and yeah, this time he’s actually laughing. “Wasn’t trying to start anything man, I just wanted some booze.”

“Do yourself a favor and take the vodka then. It’ll put you out quicker.”

Jared just looks at him, like a dog confused about why his hackles are up. “What are you, like the booze-troll or something?”

 _“Forget about it dude,_ Jenny’s just a grumpy old man.” Christian Kane’s voice rolls in and suddenly he’s next to Jensen, slinging an arm around him fondly. “He gets defensive around new blood.”

“No doubt,” Jared keeps looking at Jensen, who looks smaller under Christian’s beefy arms and much more disgruntled. Jensen drinks his beer passive-aggressively and ignores him.

“Take the tequila dude. Give some of it to one of those babes for me,” Christian winks.

“He’s gonna settle a bet with it.” Jensen points out, not looking at either of them.

“Oh yeah? What for?” Christian asks.

“Probably to find out which guy gets the worst whiskey-dick.”

Jared just smiles. “Actually it’s to find out how big the stick up your ass is.”

 _“Oh-ho!”_ Christian applauds Jared with a tight high-five. Even Jason is laughing next to him, and Jensen’s mouth twists as he glares at Jared – who looks stupidly proud of himself. “Toast to that, my friend!”

Christian raises his beer to Jared, who in turn lifts his own up but at the last second chugs a big throatful from the tequila bottle instead. Jensen doesn’t act perturbed by how much Christian likes it – Christian liked all the guys, no matter how charismatic, funny and charming they were.

Before Jared swallows his wet mouthful, he winks at him.

*

Jared’s got a raging headache the next day and winds up late for class. It took him about half an hour to find his pants and make his escape from the girl’s dorm before an RA found him. Unfortunately, Sandra of Alpha Delta Phi had everything he wanted from a girl except aspirin, which sucked.

He shoulder-bumps into his calculus (seriously, calculus in the morning) class just so his eyes can land on the one person he truly, desperately wants to see:

Stick-In-The-Ass Jenny.

The class gives him a few looks, but it’s a big class, so he goes mostly unnoticed as he saunters through the back rows looking for a seat. Jen isn’t sitting at the front furiously taking down notes like Jared would typically think assholes like Jen do; he’s actually parked close to the back next to one of the few empty seats left. Jared’s eyes bounce between the empty seat next to Jen and the scattered ones around the class.

Calculus was really boring. Some entertainment would be nice.

So he slides into the seat beside Jen and listens gleefully to the inevitable sigh of disappointment.

“Got a pencil?” He whispers.

“No.” Jen’s eyes stay trained on their instructor, Prof. Platt.

“What about a pen?”

“Nope.”

“Some aspirin?”

Jen’s green eyes roll before he gives Jared a look – a merciful once-over. Jared grins wolfishly; he’s still sporting a fuck-do up top and his outfit is some sort of unbutton-down, jeans with an unnecessarily large Texas belt buckle and flip flops. His muscle tank peeks out from under his shirt.

With a defeated sort of frown, Jen reaches into his messenger and throws a box of pop-out pills at him.

“Ibuprofen.” He mutters.

“Boy scout,” Jared quickly pops one out and swallows it dry, doesn’t see Jen cringe. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Jen says far too literally.

“Sealed.” Jared zips his lips. There’s maybe two blessed moments of quiet, before – “You know, you’re doing it wrong.”

“What?” Jen’s brow furrows.

“That,” Jared points to the equation on Jen’s notebook paper. “He’s using the squeeze principle.”

His frown deepens. “No, the squeeze principle was for problems A through B.”

“Wrong. That was the chain rule. Use the squeeze, trust me. Works on all the girls.”

He can’t see the grin, but he can see the way Jen’s shoulder bunch up. That one was bad – if Jen thought that was funny, maybe he wasn’t as big a prick as Jared thought.

He can see crinkles around his eyes – like eight of them.

“How did you know that? You weren’t even here.” Jen replies.

“Study hard, party hard, bro.” Jared answers smugly. “Gotta balance.”

“Bullshit. I balance the hell out of that.”

“Maybe you need to study a little more then.” He suggests, and Jen visibly bristles.

“Trust me, studying isn’t something I need to do _‘a little more’_ of.” He hisses, and if Jared were giving him the benefit of his full gaze right now, he’d be able to confirm that Jen is indeed leaning slightly closer in his seat. “Try to find another guy in APE who won an award with the NFL his freshmen year.”

“Football?”

“Forensics.” Jen mutters, and starts erasing the problems in his notebook. Jared laughs.

“Dude, big whoop. I got one of those in high school.”

“Right,” Jen scoffs.

“Speech and debate, right? And they gave you a stupid little red and silver cord to wear at graduation?” Jared recalls, remembering how dorky it all was. He was lucky he made it through high school without getting fifty swirlies a day. He blamed it on his reputation for snapping fingers whenever someone tried.

Jen looks him up and down, eyebrows knitting. He tries not to give away how incredulous that sounds coming from _Jared –_ but he’s right, and that more than unnerves Jensen. Jared didn’t look like the book type at all. Maybe Jensen pegged him wrong.

“Something like that.”

“Yeah. _Wow,”_ Jared pops back another ibuprofen – these definitely weren’t strong enough. “Dude you seriously need to get laid more.”

And just like that, Jensen loses all doubts about Jared. “Right, because it’s my dick that’s too smart.”

Jared laughs – straight up laughs, and someone turns and glares at him from another desk.

“All I’m saying is, get it drunk once in a while.” Jared eventually returns.

“So now you admit you get whiskey-dick.”

“It’ll get a tolerance.”

“You’d know.”

Jared clicks his tongue. “Do you _like_ fun, Jen? Or are you one of those kids who just isn’t into it?”

“My name’s not Jen.” He interrupts, curtly. “S’Jensen.”

“Jensen?” He asks, the name tightly squeezed out of his teeth, and Jensen is about to give him another glare. “Jensen – got it. Question still stands.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you like fun?” He repeats, slower like he’s an infant. Jensen shifts in his seat.

“I’m the definition of fun.” He mutters, scribbling something hard.

“Prove it.” Jared grins. Jensen just gives him a look, so he elaborates.

He grabs a straw out of a nearby student’s latte cup (despite the protest he gets, it’s an empty cup) and tears off a line of paper from Jensen’s notebook.

“What the –” Jensen starts, but Jared halts him with a finger, which then turns into him rolling the paper up and turning it into a spitball. Jensen watches Jared’s lips pucker around the paper wad coolly.

When Jared finally has the spitball cannon set, he holds it out to Jensen.

“No.” Jensen instantly says.

Jared shrugs. “Case in point.”

He lifts the straw to his lips to shoot out a ball straight into the back of Platt’s head – but just before he blows, Jensen’s hand falls over his. Jared carefully watches him take the straw, his expression trained into a neutral position, not even looking at Jared; like he didn’t want Jared to see his weakness for defeat. He brings it to his lips –

They’re pink. Puffy.

“And the limit of the function should be – who did that?” Mr. Platt’s snipes suddenly, whipping around to face the class with his dark beady little eyes. “Who _did_ that?”

The class is painfully quiet, aside from the choked snorts coming from the back row. Coming from Jared – and Jensen. Platt can’t hear it this far away, thankfully, and goes back to the board.

As soon as he does they let out full-bodied snickers.

*

He doesn’t get to talk to Jensen much in between classes. The guy was like a ghost. He was always surrounded by Jason or Michael anyways, and though Jared was quickly catching fire with all the guys in APE, it seemed like whenever he didn’t catch Jensen alone it was like Jensen wasn’t there at all. He seemed to shrink into the background whenever they all hung out.

Nevertheless, APE was growing to like Jared. Christian especially – considering how much of a party animal you’d have to be to run APE, it made sense that he and Jared would catch on. Having them together in a room was like summoning a demon of booze, bass, fights, girl fights, weed, noise and sex.

Tonight they’ve got four controllers out and beers flowing at half past three. It’s just Christian and Jared right now, along with Michael and another APE vet Tom who share a bong on the couch.

“You guys gonna pass that shit or keep sucking face?” Christian nags as he button-mashes.

“Last time you used my bong you fuckin’ drooled dude.” Michael harps.

“Boo, you whore,” Christian sticks his tongue out and looks at Jared. “Hand me a hard lemonade or something dude, I can’t play this sober.”

“S’not gonna help,” Jared snorts but tosses him a Mike’s Hard from the cooler. He was on his third by now – these really gave him the worst sugar headaches. Christian pops the cap with a _schnick._

“So I heard Big Jay hooked up with Sandra McCoy last night,” He mentions before tossing back a hearty swill. Jared shakes his but Christian just grins. “S’that true?”

“All that and more baby,” Jared rolls out, triumphantly. “Why? You interested?”

“No thanks – they fired me from the fudge packing plant.” Christian snarks, and gets some stupid _‘ooh’_ s from Tom and Michael.

“I meant in Sandra, dick-face.”

“Nah, it’s just that she dumped what’s-his-face Collins a few months ago and hasn’t really shacked up with anyone since.” He winks at Jared. “So the question is, dear boy, are _you_ interested?”

“What, like a relationship?” Jared wrinkles his face. “That’s high-maintenance bro. Ain’t nobody got time for that.”

“Ain’t nobody got time for that,” Michael mimics.

“ _I got bronchitis!”_ Tom follows.

“I don’t know man, it’s Sandra McCoy.” Christian presses.

“Dude if you wanna date her, you have my blessing.” Jared shrugs.

Christian sighs. “Kids these days. Don’t know what they’re missing.”

Something pounds on the door, causing a jolt. “Someone grab that.” Christian grumps.

“What if it’s an RA?” Michael worries. “Dude, I am _so_ high right now –”

“Tom get it,” He barks, and Tom hops to it with only the smallest amount of flailing as he tries to grapple with gravity. Jared watches him pull back the door to reveal Jason with a bag of chips.

And Jensen.

Christian glances back, eyes widening when he spots the chips. “Dude, fuckin’ _finally!”_

“Gimme,” Tom moans and grabs the chips and dip, involuntarily dragging Jason in with him.

The living room is quickly vacated as everyone migrates into the kitchen where snacks have been spread out; a holy grail of salt and sugar.

“Did you bring the jerky man? _Yes,”_ Michael paws through the mess of plastic wrap and foil.

“What the hell are you doing man? Give ‘em the bong,” Christian gripes. Michael fumbles to apologize and hand it over. Jason grins through his beard and tokes up.

Jared tries to catch Jensen’s eyes, and it works at first – he gets a small smile, looking almost knowing in expression – but it disappears just as quickly when the bong is passed and Christian decides to keep talking.

“We were just talking about how Jaybird dropped it into Sandra McCoy last night,” He muses nastily.

“Gross,” Tom groans, but Jason looks surprised.

“What?” He proclaims, voice weed-squeaky. “ _Sandra McCoy?_ You’re shitting me.”

“Jaybird’s a playa-playa.” Christian thumps Jared’s chest proudly.

Jared grins warmly, pride washing over him, and looks to Jensen for another smile, but Jensen’s not looking at him.

“What’re you gonna do? Start dating her now?” Jason probes.

“C’mon,” Jared rolls his eyes.

“You have to dude! Sandra’s like, a serial monogamist.” He says emphatically.

“Not to mention why the fuck wouldn’t you want to?” Christian adds, shoving down some chips. “Wouldn’t you agree Jen? Jared’s being an idiot.”

“Who the fuck cares,” Jensen replies, sounding far too loud to Jared. “You know you guys are only saying this shit because you haven’t fucked her yet.”

The words go off like a bomb in the room. Jared just cracks up, despite how Christian is shaking his head.

 _“Damn,_ Jen laying it down,” Christian whumps.

“It’s true,” Jared says, catching Jensen’s gaze when it narrows at him. “Y’all don’t talk about Alona the same way you talk about Sandra. It’s cause you all dicked her already.”

The room choruses in agreement. Jensen smiles at that, just a duck of his green eyes – and if the only way for Jared to communicate with Jensen was to count his smiles here and there, well. He always loved a challenge.

*

“Let me guess, another lecture on the squeeze principle.” Jensen deadpans.

Jared’s backpack hits the floor between their desks with a _whumpf._ He feels a proud rush at the fact that Jensen isn’t ignoring him this time, as he slumps down into the seat next to him in Mr. Platt’s class.

“No actually, this time it’s on squares. Like you.” He grins, and as if on cue whips out a square candy bar.

Jensen finally drags his eyes over to Jared and the chocolate, and snorts. “You’re a dork.”

Jared nearly frets but suddenly Jensen is taking the candy bar like he hoped and they’re splitting it, halves cracked apart where Jensen’s delicate fingers broke it.

He didn’t have to split it – Jared had specifically bought the bar for him, because he’d already had three in his bag (he never knew when Michael or Tom was going to hassle him for munchies).

The mere fact that Jensen did something as girly as splitting it for them both to share like a milkshake with two straws made Jared practically do a five-eighty.

“If I knew you were a fat girl for candy I would’ve bought some sooner.” Jared says instead.

“Yeah, like you don’t use two trays at the cafeteria, Galactus.” He replies over a mouthful of Hershey’s, completely nonplussed.

There seemed to be nothing that got under Jensen’s skin. He was cool graphite. Jared was usually like a spike to people like that, but not Jensen.

“Eating is my talent.” Jared agrees. “Just ask Sandra.”

Jensen nearly groans. “If that’s your biggest achievement –”

“My biggest achievement was getting you to admit that you’re a fat girl.”

Laughter – spun gold laughter you could whip into a trophy and mount on Jared’s wall.

*

“Alright, how we doing this? Two-hand touch?” Christian flips the football in his hands, overlooking the small flock of dudes before him on the field. Michael groans.

“Don’t be a _pussy_ man.”

“We ain’t got enough for a normal game!” Christian fires back. “There’s only like, fucking…”

He stops to do a quick headcount. Including Michael, Tom, two other APE vets Ty Olsson and Chad, and then Jared and Christian himself. That made –

“Six of us. Fucking six,” Christian finishes. “Let’s split into teams of three.”

“Oh c’mon dude, three is so lame.” Michael continues.

“You wanna take over your majesty?”

Jared watches them bicker back and forth for a bit amusedly. His eyes wander to the walkway a few feet from the field just in time to catch Jensen and Jason heading back to the dorms. He hadn’t seen him since class this morning at ass o’clock. He grins.

“Hey Jason! Jen!” He yells, waving an arm. “Chris, make Jensen and Jason join.”

Christian stops and looks in Jensen’s direction. “Aw, _fuck_ yeah, Jenny get over here!”

Jason beams and instantly trots over, and Jensen, reluctantly follows along.

“Jason, you be on Jared’s team. Jenny’s with me.” Christian orders. Jason looks kind of put out.

“What are you guys doing?” He asks.

“Just what I said, bro, get your head in the game.” Christian bops Jason’s crown with the ball. “You good with that Jen?”

Jensen smiles but shrugs. “I got a paper.”

“C’mon Jen, thought you liked fun.” Jared finds himself saying, no filter.

He expects Jensen to turn around and slam him with something embarrassingly witty, or maybe just stab him with his eyes. Maybe he’s wrong – because Jensen just swipes the ball from Christian and starts walking down the field.

“Game set, ladies! Move your ass.” Christian hoots, and then the game starts.

Michael gets creamed over and over again by Tom. It’s ridiculous. He doesn’t know Ty and Chad all that well yet, all he knows is that Chad is fast and he crumples like paper whenever he runs into Ty’s Montana-sized chest. Jared’s lucky he’s got long legs, but he’s distracted.

 _“Man down!”_ Comes from behind Jared before his face suddenly meets the grass. He can hear Ty hollering on top of him, like a gorilla, and Christian’s laughing as they get up.

“Now you know how Sandra feels, Jay!” Christian hoots. Jared flips him off. He can’t see if that makes Jensen laugh, because Jensen’s turned away, and they’re all getting back into position.

 _“Hike!”_ Christian spits and the ball spirals in the air down into Jensen’s hands.

Jared’s bursting after him before anyone else. Jensen maybe gets halfway down the field before Jared catches up, inches away, and then suddenly a sack of weight slams into Jared’s back. He shoves into Jensen so hard the ball spins away like a helicopter and he and Jensen are rolling together like taffy.

When they finally come to a halt, Jared groaning, he glances down to see if Jensen’s okay – and gets kicked off and to the side with a sharp, hard _punt_.

He coughs, landing on his ass like a jerk, and watches with a furrowed brow as Jensen lunges to his feet and jerkily moves back into position – not a glance sent in Jared’s direction. Beyond Jensen, Michael is laughing in the grass a few feet away from where he tackled Jared.

 “Nice going ass-clown, you downed your own man.” Jared points out.

“Worth it,” Michael chortles.

“Aye Jen, now you know how Sandra feels too,” Christian snickers. Jared catches Jensen’s jaw tighten, eerily silent, but no rapier remark hurls out of him

“You sound a little jealous Chris,” Jared says, climbing to his feet with a wink. “Y’wanna know how Sandra felt I can show you. I’ll whisper in your ear, tell you you’re pretty.”

Laughter fills the field. Christian grins and throws the ball at Jared, but it misses. When Jared turns around to pick it up, he finds someone else doing it for him.

“So this is where you guys hide out,” Sandra McFuckingCoy says, grasping the pig-skin between her manicured fingertips. Her hair’s all pressed, jeans hugging her hips, shirt unbuttoned just enough to see the tan lines there, and she’s flanked by two Sandra-mites; Alona and Adrianne. A warm grin plasters itself across Jared’s face.

“Sandra,” Christian starts towards them before Jared can even get a word in. “You coming to my party tomorrow?”

“Maybe. Is Jared gonna be there?” She doesn’t even stop to look at Christian, and Jared’s already nodding dumbly. Christian throws an arm over his shoulder.

“Hell yeah! Jay’s my man. He’ll be there,” Christian promises for him.

“Are you, Jay?” Sandra asks Jared. She’s got her lip gloss on, the pink kind.

“Yeah,” Jared replies – then adds with a little more lucidity. _“Yeah,_ for sure.”

She lets out an airy laugh. “Good.”

Christian thumps Jared on the chest, the guys cheering behind him. It’s hard to look away from Sandra’s big brown laser beams, but he does.

Jensen’s scrolling through his phone.

*

Christian warns him not to spend too much time in class tomorrow because of the party, so Jared gets up early. Yeah, he actually gets up early to Mr. Platt’s class – the class he hardly needs to study for in the first place. The class he could get away with not going to all semester and still pass with flying colors. He shoves on a beanie and some old (read: comfortable as fuck) jeans and forgets his backpack but fuck it.

To his surprise, Jensen’s already there. He’s slumped on the floor with a giant cup of Starbucks and a full backpack, looking barely alive. Jared cracks a smile as he lets himself just appear in front of Jen, sliding to the floor in a flop of clothes. When Jensen sees him, his eyes widen by inches, kind of like a baby.

“All nighter?”

“What gave me away?” He mutters, taking a big sip of whatever he’s got.

“Said you had a paper,” Jared explains, voice sleep-sticky. “Did the math.”

“I just scream the type, don’t I?”

Jared shrugs. “Yeah, definitely.” And because he’s a gambler, he swipes Jensen’s coffee to take a gulp for himself.  Jensen’s eyes narrow.

“You don’t care about your life, do you?”

Jared moans as he drinks, something in the shape of _nope._ Jensen watches his throat undulate noisily but doesn’t stop him – and when Jared gives it back less full than it was before, he doesn’t bitch. Doesn’t even snipe. Isn’t even fazed when he sucks the same spot Jared’s lips just were, his tongue.

This is how he finds the little lines Jensen leaves in the sand everywhere. Some are small like sips, and some are kicks in the gut that sit for days in Jared’s stomach like sea-sickness. Maybe Jensen’s impenetrable, or maybe he’s void of any and all boundaries. Jared can’t just flip a coin and decide, but then again, he’s a gambler.

“So who paid you to join APE?” He finally asks, a long overdue question ever since he first met Jensen.

“Thomas Jefferson was in a frat.” Jensen shrugs.

“M’not talking about a frat, I’m talking about APE.” Jared specifies. “Did Chris rope you into it?”

“Something like that,” He says eventually. “We grew up together.”

The pause that yawns out at the end of that sentence begs for attention. “And then what? You guys banged the same chick and now things aren’t the same?”

Jensen laughs, echoing in the small hall like ghost’s breath. “Nah, we’re cool. Just different.”

“I don’t know chief, that kind of sounds like a reach.” Jared says sarcastically. Jensen kicks his foot, sole squeaking against the linoleum. At least it’s not a painful kick this time.

“Besides partying, we’re just different.” He takes another sip. “Chris is like everybody’s man-crush in this frat. Guys treat him like Tom Brady. S’probably why he likes you so much.”

Jared nearly sputters. “I’m not into Tom Brady.”

“No that’s my point, fat-head.” Jensen says dryly. “You don’t worship at his alter or whatever. You didn’t even know who Sandra McCoy was before you boinked her. It’s like you don’t care or pay attention to anything. At all.”

He’d agree to disagree on that. Jared notices a lot of things – like how Jensen’s sneaker is still touching his. “I just like to party, man. Since when did that involve homework?”

Jensen shrugs and sips. “Point.”

But Jared doesn’t feel like that’s the point. He can hear a drain gurgling somewhere, washing down a paragraph of words left unspoken.

“I’m guessing – and slap me if I’m wrong, here – but Chris probably did all the partying in the relationship, right?” He asks, and Jensen gives him a quick lift of his eyebrows, like _thanks, Captain Obvious._ “And somehow you just grew out of it.”

“Maybe,” Jensen looks off down the hallway, sounding thoughtful. “I just don’t know how he does it.”

“Does what?”

“You know,” He stops and drinks. “Go _apeshit_ all day and still get shit done. It’s exhausting.”

Jared grins. “Balance.”

Jensen kicks him again, a little harder.

*

The day seems to drag along so hard that by the time the party’s started back at the APE house, the guys are ready to tear the walls down. Something crashes and breaks in the kitchen by six and by eight they’ve got a couple locked in the bedroom, and by ten Michael’s brought out a video camera to see if he can get any of the sorority girls to flash him (it works).

Jared honestly didn’t think Jensen would show up after the talk they had this morning, but he does. As soon as he steps through the door he makes a bee-line for the cooler in the kitchen and his usual spot in the corner so he could do what he always did; drink, overlook the chaos, and throw side-bar comments to Jason and Christian - who was so off his ass he’d actually convinced two girls to take a bath with him.

But Jared had a plan. Which was completely against his rules of partying, really, but he had to drag Jensen into the fold somehow. Nothing killed his boner more than trying to live it up under the distant, condescending green eye of Jensen Ackles, like Sauron.

So he gets to the party early, waits for Jensen to walk through the door, and as soon as he does he hauls him into the living room, sits him on the couch next to Stoner Tom and Ty, and barks at Jason to go get them some drinks. He doesn’t let Jensen up for anything. Jensen gripes at first, but soon he’s grumpily demanding drinks and some hits off Tom’s bong.

Like magic, Jared’s mission to dismantle Jensen’s High Horse is complete. Anyways, the couch is surrounded with girls by now, so it’s not like Jensen can go anywhere.

It’s some sort of miracle to see that he’s actually having fun. He’s laughing, playing the stupid drinking games, and grinning so hard his eye crinkles appear – all eight of them – and yeah, he might be a little faded, but Jared couldn’t be prouder.

“Hey Sandra, got anything you wanna say to the camera about Jared?” Michael weasels his Panasonic into the circle Sandra’s made with her girlfriends on the floor by the couch, and gets several ass-smacks along the way.

“Sure,” Sandra grins. “I wanna know if he’d rather play Truth or Dare.”

A chorus of girlish _ooh’s_ ring out. Jared thinks he’s stumbled upon the best night of his life – sorority girls playing truth or dare with him.

Before he can say anything Jensen cuts him off with a roll of loud, breathy snickers.

“S’that a rhetorical question? Dare,” He answers for Jared, and just to shock him even further he turns and actually looks at Jared. “Am I right or am I right?”

“Right,” Jared replies, brow knit with curiosity, and the girls instantly cheer.

“Girls verse boys,” Sandra claps her hands. “We’ll decide who goes first by –”

“I dare you guys to threeway-make out, like right now.” Michael blurts behind his camera.

Girls _boo_ and Sandra scowls at him. “Too easy. Rule number one – If you want us to kiss each other, you have to kiss somebody first.”

Jensen laughs again, far too loud.

 _“Way_ too easy,” He says. “Jared will make out with anyone.”

“What?” Jared scoffs, but the girls are already getting excited. Jensen just chuckles.

“I’ll make out with anyone! Pick me!” Michael says.

“No, we want Jared.” Sandra tuts, deviously. “Pick someone to kiss, Jay.”

“C’mon man, do it for the folks at home.” Michael aims his camera at Jared now. “Kiss Tom, he’s not even awake.”

Jared’s overwhelmed by the whole scenario. Yeah, he definitely needs some threeway-girl-on-girl kisses to happen, like, right now. But he’s always been a stickler for milking a dollar.

“If I kiss someone,” Jared starts. “Whatever I do, you have to do to her, right?”

“My word is my honor.” Sandra winks, practically puckering up for him already.

“Fine,” He muses. “I’ll kiss Jensen.”

The room goes through this hybrid of noise. Michael’s crowing behind the lens and Sandra looks stricken, fish-slapped. Warmth sprawls in Jared’s chest.

The way he sees it, he’s got a twofer: lesbian-threeway-kisses in one pocket, and a guaranteed D.T.F. Sandra for tonight (she would be either way really, but now that he’s stung her with rejection, she’ll want him more than ever).

And, well – maybe this makes it a threefer, but he’s got this theory about Jensen that he just needs to test.

“Fine,” Sandra echoes him, crossing her arms tightly. “Try it.”

Jared grins. He turns to look at Jensen for the first time during this whole scheme only to find him smiling, like this whole thing is a joke. Like Jared’s not actually gonna do it, like he’s got a laugh bubbling up in his chest just from the thought of kissing Jared. Like their noses grazing each other is absurd.

Jared can feel his boozy breath puffing against his lips. He noses forward, rolling sideways until he feels pink puffiness slotting against his mouth, and some sharp noise when Jared suddenly plunges.

Jensen kisses back as slow as molasses; poppy-high and sweet. 

A sea of whooping and hollering rolls over them like a tidal wave, distorted. He hopes Michael is getting this, because Jared won’t believe Jensen is kissing him unless he sees it on tape. He can feel Jensen’s high, drunk smile against his lips, letting Jared drag him into the game.

Jared remembers their audience and spreads a broad palm across the thin fabric of Jensen’s shirt, pressing flat against what would be a girl’s tit, thumbing a nipple like Michael would love to see Sandra do. A vibration of giggles threatens to spill over Jensen’s mouth – especially when Jared tries to tug up his shirt with a sneaky hand only to have Jensen tug it back down again tautly.

“Aw c’mon, man, don’t be a prude!” Michael laughs, and Jared holds up a warning hand for him to not fuck this up. He can feel Jensen tense up under him already, so he bites down on his bottom lip and quiets those muscles.

It isn’t until a soft, tight moan gets muffled by Jared’s lips that he realizes someone’s into this.

 _Jensen’s_ into this. It’s so small he’s sure nobody hears it except himself, but his spine is tingling.

 _He knew it._ He knew it.

His hand returns to Jensen’s chest in full force. Dragging flat along his pecs, rubbing down to his stomach. The room lets out little _whoops_ whenever he drops downwards, teasing.

Jensen shifts underneath him like a virgin.

Feeling the jumpiness in his abdominals, the tiny leaps whenever Jared makes Jensen’s head roll back. Wrinkling his shirt, line of skin exposing above his belt.

Slipping to the firm stretch of his in-seam, and –

Jared’s back is slamming to the floor so quick it’s as if the couch had an ejection button and Jensen suddenly punched it.

“Gimme a _break,_ man, that was nothing!” Michael snorts, and the girls are laughing in sweet choruses of _aww_ and _poor baby_.

Jared stares up at Jensen’s livid face with lips still stinging. His eyes are bottomless holes of dilated obsidian, looking at Jared as if he’d drawn one big line in the sand, and Jared crossed it.

His boot lands dangerously close to Jared’s head when he steps over him to storm outside. Michael calls after him, but Jared sprints like a bloodhound lost on a scent.

Cold air hits him in a rush, far too sobering for his PBR ass. There’s a flickering streetlight and a burning blue moon, making Jensen’s form nearly impossible to see as he scans the yard and road for him.

“Jen?” He calls, dumbly, and hears shuffling from the side of the house.

He follows the sound until he finds Jensen leaning against the wall in the dark, jaw locked and fists still clenched.

“What the hell, Jen,” He starts, affronted.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“You’re overreacting. It was just a _game_.” He scoffs.

“You don’t speak English? I said get the _fuck_ away from me dickhead.” 

“Why?” He steps closer. “What the hell did I do? Huh?”

“You’re a fucking asshole, that’s what.”

“For playing a game?” Jared presses, hotly, mouth twisted into something dark. “Was I an asshole on the football field yesterday too? Hm?”

Jensen’s nostrils flare like a tell. He glares with glittering black eyes, and says nothing.

His lips are still bitten pink.

Jared’s mouth crashes against his, punching a sound out of Jensen –

And then Jensen is punching Jared.

He flies into the trash cans by the fence, glass shattering somewhere inside like a thousand knives. He’s too disoriented by the searing pain in his eyes socket to care, dumbstruck by the fist Jensen’s been hiding this whole time.

He staggers to his feet dizzily, waiting for the earth to stop spinning around him. When he’s finally able to look up, he expects Jensen to be long gone. But he’s not. He’s standing there, eyebrow deepened like he’s worried. Jared stares at Jensen.

Violent, black and blue, press-the-red-button Jensen.

“Jay,” He starts, stepping closer, and if Jared had given it two more seconds he’d hear Jensen’s first ever apology.

Instead he pushes Jensen back against the wall and kisses him again, harder than before. Jensen fists his collar in his knuckles like he’s about to throw Jared back into the trash, but he doesn’t. He can feel his button-down digging into his throat, Jensen’s squeezing so tight.

Then his fingers curl into Jared’s hair, and he opens his mouth for him.

The elation in his chest feels like a helium balloon traveling straight to his head. Jared mouths at him so hard his head knocks back against the wall and his taut, hot neck is taken in a heartbeat. Jensen’s fingers dig into his scalp as he suckles his pulse, digs his teeth into the soft give. He can taste Jensen’s heartbeat – like bird’s wings against a cage.

The shaky breaths trembling from Jensen’s lips skyrocket as Jared nips his way down to his nipple, and this time Jensen doesn’t stop him when he pulls his shirt up and sucks until it’s hot pink. The night air cools his breath into clouds that make it stiffen when Jared pants against it. When he bites it - Jensen’s fingers tighten.

He needs to see Jensen’s cock. He bets it’s just like his nipple – hot and pink, and hard. Thick. He glances down at the bulge in Jensen’s pants, and yeah, he can see it pushing against the denim.

His hands fumble to undo Jensen’s belt, shirt still rucked up under one arm, leaving his chest exposed. Jensen suddenly goes tight around him like a thread pulling.

“M’not –” He whispers into Jared’s jaw, stopping him.

Jared’s grip locks on the fat line of Jensen’s cock through his jeans and _squeezes,_ sucking the air out of him.

His moan is low, muffled in Jared’s neck. He can feel Jensen’s cold nose burrowing into throat as he starts palming him, jerking him as tight as the fabric will let him, and then Jared grinds his thigh against him and his breath is hacked into choppy pants. Jared pumps him back against the wall with _thuds,_ digs his own flagged cock into Jensen’s hip so he can’t ignore it – gets to feel how big Jared is. Bites at the hiccup that gets lost in Jensen’s throat.

Jensen grabs his other hand and shoves it back under his shirt. _Warm._ Jared gets the cue; he pinches Jensen’s nipple hard enough to make him shudder against him, and dry-fucks him against the wall like he needs it.

He looks worse than Sandra. His legs are kicked apart, spread more than wide to fit Jared in, to let him grind their two fat bulges together, let him grope, and his pink, puffy mouth hangs open. Unspoken moans there, strangled down so Jared can’t hear. He looks better than Sandra.

“Fuck,” Jared hears. He twists Jensen’s nipple, flicks it with his nail. _“Fuck.”_

Jared groans and swallows his sounds, shoving their lips together. He can feel a moan shaking Jensen’s throat, knows how hot it would sound if Jensen would just let him hear. Who the hell was he hiding from? They were outside. He inches his hand down to Jensen’s belt again, but he gets sharp whimper for it, so he leaves it to suck on his other nipple – feeling Jensen arch.

“Hold it,” Jared mumbles when he stuffs Jensen’s shirt up into his underarms so he can see his nipples glisten with spit in the cold air, and when Jensen obeys and tucks his shirt up for him Jared nearly comes right there. Jensen’s eyes are wide, bright green and pink as Jared undoes his own belt and drags out his cock – big and drooling – and starts jacking it against Jensen’s bare skin. Jensen’s eyes lock on it.

“Fuck, Jay,” Jensen whispers, breathing unsteadily – like he’s worried about being caught. Jared palms his cock through his jeans with his other hand and his protest is swallowed back, eyelids fluttering and lips going wet when he licks them, letting his head fall back against the wall.

His chest heaves under Jared, stomach jumping when he feels the wet touch of his cockhead. Jared stares at the soft arch of his body, shoving his clothed cock harder into Jared’s fist, one hand shaking as he keeps his shirt up so Jared can wrap his lips around the sensitive nub like he’s a girl – a wet, whining girl.

It makes him fist himself harder, skin slapping when he hears Jensen panting – _ah._

“Jay,” Jensen trembles out – warning – and Jared’s fist quickens. His fingernails dig into Jared’s nape, pain bleeding through until his body seizes against Jared.

Jensen shoves his face into the dip of Jared’s throat and _whines,_ warmth bleeding through the denim under Jared’s hand, wet.

Jared can see the spot growing, imagines it running down Jensen’s thigh.

He throws Jensen’s slack form back against the wall, grips the shirt in one hand so his fist is keeps Jensen pinned to the wall by his vulnerable collar bones. He licks his lips, big and pillowy as he watches Jared’s skin slap. Mouths – _Jay._

He groans as he comes all over Jensen’s bare stomach and chest, thick spurts that stripe his taut hip bones, the dip of his chest, nipple.

Jensen’s breath comes in slow, heavy shrugs as Jared slumps against him, mouthing at his jaw. His head tilts back against the brick and Jared finds his lips, sucks on the bottom one, lets the shirt fall. It doesn’t make it all the way down, caught on slick.

His eyes roll like marbles up to Jared, hot pink clouds of green, lips bitten red. His gaze is a slow blink, but there’s something heavy in it that weighs Jared down. He’s not sure what it is, but it makes this harder than it would be with anyone else. He wants to say something – he knows Jensen is coming down faster than he is.

But he can’t stop Jensen from tilting back down to the mess of come on his body, and softly touching his shirt. His wet spot.

“Jen,” He pants when Jensen shuffles away, tugging his shirt all the way down to his belt, and a shuffle quickly turns into a stumble and a fall when Jensen retches on the grass. Jared’s too busy buttoning his pants up like a douche to stop Jensen from running across the street, to the direction of his dorm room.

*

Walking to Mr. Platt’s class is more like a funeral march the next morning.

His head was full of boulders rolling around, neck weak just holding up the weight.

After Jensen left last night, he went back inside and fucked himself up real good. It was probably one of the best parties they’d ever had, if he just ignored the first half of it.

None of the guys knew, not even Christian (especially not Christian) which really was the cherry on top of this whole shit show; now Jared had a huge fuck-up to hide from all his friends. That made him feel awful perky.

He slips into his usual seat next to Jensen quietly, as if not to set off an alarm.

“What’d I miss?”

Jensen doesn’t give him anything except the slender curve of his nape as he makes aggravated scribbles across his page. His eyes are pink around the edges and a little wrinkled, like he’s yawned a dozen times in the past five minutes.

He should let him be. He knows better – but unlike Jensen, Jared’s not good at ignoring things.

“Not a whole lot? Yeah.” He continues, but Jensen keeps scribbling. “You know, if Mr. Platt had an accent this whole class thing would be a lot funner.”

Jensen doesn’t think it’s funny. He decides to try a different approach, leaning in closer.

“Hey, you got a pencil?”

The notebook falls closed with a sharp _thwap._ Seconds later, it’s shoved roughly into Jensen’s messenger, and with curled fists, Jensen swings it over his shoulder and gets up. His sneakers shriek all the way out of the door.

*

He doesn’t come back. In fact, Jared doesn’t see him during lunch either, when APE usually hits up the plaza downtown for junk food.

It’s not like Jared goes looking for him, he never was one to chase, except now he found himself casually touring all of APE’s usual haunts, slipping sneaky excuses past the guys for them to kick it someplace Jen’s more likely to appear- only to find Jensen not there.

He’s in the library now, sections A-C, pawing a dumb arithmetic book from the eighties when someone _whumps_ into his back.

“Jaybird! Where the fuck you been?” Christian shoves into his peripherals like a photobomb.

 _“Ssh,_ s’fucking library dude,” Jared whispers. “M’just, looking at books and shit.”

“Books? What, do you hate trees or something? Get a kindle. Go green.” He tuts. “Wait, why the fuck are you in a library?”

“Lost my textbook.” Jared replies without missing a beat. “Why are _you_ in a library?”

“Looking for you, dumbass. Guys are split-screening back at the house and we need a man.”

“That’s for sure.” He licks, and Christian sniggers. Jared tucks the book back into the shelf and lets Christian walk him towards the entrance.

“Dude, last night,” Christian starts, dazedly. “Was probably the best night of my life.”

“Right.”

“The bath tub is still clogged.”

“That’s nothing to be proud of.” He cringes.

“Yes it _is,_ son.” Christian beams. “You should try it sometime.”

“Yeah, with _Sandra,_ right? And then maybe I should video it too so you can slap the ham to it later.” He snorts. “Hey, you seen Jensen around?”

He tries to drop it in stealthily – _tries._ Christian’s eyes narrow at him, and Jared never noticed this before, but Christian could look like a scary motherfucker when he wanted to. He doesn’t right now, but Jared knows he could.

It’s not like Christian is Jensen’s mother or anything. Just his best friend – and their frat leader.

“Nah, why?”

“He lost –” Jared clears his throat.

He’s not a liar, not usually, but being squeezed under Christian’s knife-life gaze could change a man.

“Don’t tell him I told you this, but he lost his math book last night at the party and I was gonna get him one from the library for next class. He didn’t want anyone to know how drunk he was.”

Christian kicks out a joyous laugh. “Drunk? Jen? Guy barely gets buzzed anymore. Did he get laid?”

Jared’s tongue feels like it’s falling down an endless staircase. “I don’t know, I was smashed.”

“Let’s cross our fingers, yeah?” Christian throws an arm around him, waving at some girls as they pass through the courtyard now. “Kinda started to think that guy had issues in that department.”

Jared frowns. “Well you’re his best friend, wouldn’t you know if he did?”

Christian just sort of shrugs noncommittally. “Beats me. He’s my best bud, but to be honest, we’re a little different.  Ever since high school, really. C’mon Jay, you’ve _seen_ him. Me and him are from different sides of the planet. If he wasn’t my hombre, I’d think that guy has problems.”

 _That guy._ “Like what?”

“You know. Baby Penisitus. Gun won’t shoot. Stage fright. Secret misogynist. Maybe the door swings the wrong way.”

Jared laughs. “What, like he’s gay?”

“Yeah, dude.” He replies, and when Jared just looks at him like he doesn’t quite believe what he’s hearing, he puts on a face that’s eerily serious. “He hasn’t hooked up with a chick since high school, man. Wouldn’t you call that a little queer?”

He wouldn’t call Jensen a little queer. He’d call Jensen a tall, thick-where-it-counts queer.

“And?” Jared replies instead.

Christian sighs, and suddenly he’s pulling them over to a shady tree in the courtyard out of ear shot from anyone else.

“Can you keep a secret dude?” He asks, and if Jared was drinking something he’d have snorted it by now, but he nods anyways.

“Look, me and Jen grew up together, right? Like, same high school and all. One time, after he’d just gotten dumped by this one pistol on the cheer team, we’d decided to get super high together. And then, in the middle of it, Jen _kissed_ me.”

All of Jared’s skill at poker boiled down to this one moment in his life, probably, because inside him is a mushroom cloud.

Christian’s looking at him for some sort of sympathy, like he’s confessing being molested by his uncle. Jared’s so dumbstruck he can’t even find a response for that.

“I totally flipped out on him for it,” He goes on, gaze bouncing around shiftily. “Eventually we just blamed the body-high and never talked about it. But dude, bringing him into APE? That was one of the hardest decisions I ever made.”

He can’t believe it. Christian actually thought Jensen would go around molesting everyone else.

“But he’s my best friend.” Christian finally shrugs. “Keep that to yourself, alright?”

And they’re walking. Jared’s shoes scuff the grass, brain whirring like a blender.

“So why did the chick dump him?” He asks, eventually, figuring that’s a safe place to start.

“Who knows,” Christian laughs. “Probably for being a total square. Not bringing booze to her parties. Wearing tighty-whities. Pick your pick.”

Picturing Jensen in tighty-whities wasn’t the best scenario right now. “Nice.”

“Honestly I’ve never seen him having this much fun though,” He rolls on. “Lately he’s been a –”

“Blast in a glass?”

“Blast in a glass,” Christian barks, and thumps Jared’s chest. “That’s the Big Jay effect right there. Really turning APE out, kid.”

Jared grins, but he’s actually cringing. They’re almost at the APE house now, thank god. He’s still a little hungover from yesterday, but god as his witness, he’s gonna drink this conversation down until he can taste it as the bile it really was.

“Hey – wait,” Christian stops him before they can step onto the frathouse porch. “There’s one more thing I gotta talk to you about dude.”

“Yeah bro?”

“There’s no easy way to put this, man.” Christian’s mouth twists. “I’m not really good at hiding things, and I know you know what I’m talking about.”

There it is. The church bells ring his funeral in the distance. He swallows and tries to do a hair-flip to cover it up.

He wants a red casket. Not brown or black, or even white. Red. With flames.

“I respect you, Jay.” Christian’s hand falls on his shoulder in a warm, tight grip. “You’re like my second here, and I don’t wanna mess that up over some chick.”

Some chick. _Chick._ Jared’s eyes narrow in realization. “Oh.”

“M’sorry dude,” Christian’s face turns a deep shade of guilty. “I boinked Sandra last night.”

Laughter bubbles up and out of Jared like a cool fountain – _bursting._ He stumbles away from Christian and onto the porch, grappling the railing for help.

Christian stares at him like he’s certifiable.

*

The next day Jared feels better. He wakes up feeling optimistic, and walks with a hasty pep to Mr. Platt’s.

He enters ready to jump into the seat next to Jensen, but Jensen’s not in his usual seat. For a second there, Jared thinks that Jensen didn’t even come to class today – like he just boycotted school as long as Jared is in it.

Then Jared finds him wedged in the center row of class, all the seats around him already taken.

Maybe he’s taking a cue from Jensen, king of the drama club, but he shoves right the fuck out of Mr. Platt’s class and decides to smoke first period off.

Two very high hours later, Jared is starting to get his mojo back.

It’s not like Jensen could just avoid him forever. They’re in the same fucking frat for fuck’s sake. All of their friends were mutual. And what the hell had Jared done to piss Jensen off so much anyways? Remind him that he loved cock?

Doesn’t matter, he goes to the frathouse later that night and waits for Jensen to appear.

Jason rolls in. Michael rolls in. Everyone and their fucking mother roll in.

But it’s starting to feel like Jensen never existed. Nobody even brings him, to the point that veers dangerously close to an existential crisis for Jared.

Sandra messages him a few times, probably trying to get his blessing for her and Christian to go steady, but to be honest, he doesn’t even find her texts until hours after the fact. Mostly because he’s too busy scrolling through his contacts and realizing that he never even got Jensen’s number, and if he asked for it from Christian or even Jason, he’d probably be burned at the Straight-Stake (a strangely phallic end).

Everything always came down to the fact that no matter how Jared tried to reach Jensen, it’d only make Jensen hate him more. Jared wasn’t sure if he cared.

No, he definitely didn’t care.

*

The next morning was a Thursday morning, which sort of meant that if Jared didn’t find a way to break down the wall between him and Jensen soon, then they wouldn’t speak all weekend, and if they didn’t speak all weekend, then it would’ve made it a whole week since Jared talked to Jensen.

Jared couldn’t stand that, so he did what he hated the most – he woke up early to go to Mr. Platt’s class.

And Jensen, as if some state of the art counterintelligence bot, decided to stroll into class late, far beyond the time to take a seat.

*

Jared was running out of weed.

*

“Aw dude, _c’mon!_ What kind of bullshit is that?”

“Dude, you have the shittiest armor. Get the speed-cola.”

“I _can’t,_ I’m down. Revive me.”

“Revive yourself, bitch! I revived you like six times.”

“Y’all are traitors,” Christian laughs, and smacks Michael’s controller to the floor when his player dies. “Restart!”

Jared jumps when the door starts pounding.

“Get that! It’s Jason.” Christian yells into the house.

“Good, he can take over for you.” Michael says, marching over to let them in.

There’s instantly a throw of cheers – Jason’s brought snacks again. Jared cranes his neck to see how many, because he’s been bonging since two in the afternoon and its way past sundown by now.

He finds Jason dumping bags on the counter, Michael dragging out pizza rolls, and Jensen Ackles delivering beer.

“Fuckin’ Jen! Where you been man?” Christian pops up from his seat to go bust open a bag of chips.

“Finals,” Jensen shrugs.

“You missed out. Sandra and Chris are bumpin’ it now.” Michael drops out, causing a swaggy grin to sparkle across Christian’s face.

Jensen’s eyes flicker to Jared, still buried in the recliner by the TV.

Jared doesn’t know why this has anything to do with him – he and Sandra were never an item before, and didn’t everyone know Christian a hard-on for Sandra?

But Jensen’s glancing at him like he was somehow the cause of this.

“Yeah?” Jensen replies. “You guys like eskimo brothers now?”

Michael cracks up. “It was a mutual passing of the torch, thanks.” Christian mutters.

“More like a passing of the pistol,” Michael adds.

“Why don’t you send her Jason’s way next time? Or is it just Jared you share with?” Jensen asks Christian, and Jason startles in a way that says _don’t drag me into this._

Christian just laughs it off. “If you want my blessing Jen, go for it. I don’t know if she likes pretty boys though.”

“Thanks but no thanks, I got enough clap.” Jensen snags some jerky and tears it with his canines. Jared watches in fascination how aggrivated a person can look while eating.

The conversation turns to something less Sandra-centric, thankfully. Michael starts talking about all the awesome videos he got from the party, and – fortunately, as if god reached down from heaven and gave Jared a reassuring pat – he doesn’t bring up the kissing game. He’s too busy bragging about all the girls that flashed him.

Jared doesn’t get much attention from Jensen. He steps into the kitchen to grab a munchie and instantly Jensen joins Tom in the living room. It’s almost like there was a negative magnet between them; wherever Jared went, Jensen left.

Jared’s whole being is screaming to just shove Jensen into a closet and hash it out, man to man (or man on man), but he knows how perilous that could be. For one thing, his eyes are as red as the Japanese flag, and Christian is far too busy catching up with Jensen to give him a chance.

It’s only an hour later when Jensen is opening the door to leave.

“Where you going Jen?” Christian asks. “Wait – don’t tell me, you’ve got a paper.”

“Power Point,” He corrects, and steps out.

“Hold up –” Christian rushes to stop him. “Jay bird said he’s got your book.”

Jared’s got tightens like a wrench. Jensen’s brow furrows. “My what?”

“The book you lost at the party, ass-hat. He’s got one you can borrow.” Christian clarifies.

Understanding creeps across Jensen’s face. He glances over at Jared, currently standing absently in the foyer with his hands empty, not a book in sight, and his mouth twists.

“It’s no problem, I found it.” Is all he says, and then the door slams behind him.

Christian shakes his head. “Dumbass.”

His shoulder brushes Jared on the way back to the living room to pick up his controller, but Jared stays put where he is with his fists clenching.

*

He had a new strategy. A better one.

He wasn’t going to Mr. Platt’s class early, that’s for sure, and if hiding between the lockers until Jensen arrived counted as going in late, then Jared went to class late.

Today was Friday. Mr. Platt’s next class was Monday.

Jensen strolls in at fifteen past. Jared must’ve been wreaking havoc on his tardy count – for all he knows, this could be the most tardies Jensen has ever had.

He waits until Jensen slips inside to follow right on his heels, unavoidable.

Then suddenly Jensen is standing in the back of class frozen as he looks at Jared like he’s the devil.

Jared feels pride wash over him. He can see the angry sigh spilling past Jensen’s nostrils. Jensen looks between Jared and the seats left in class, and like a miracle, the only seats open are he and Jensen’s usual seats.

Jensen’s knuckles go white on his messenger strap, and he reluctantly sits down in his seat.

Jared practically dives into the spot next to him.

 _Finally._ Like catching a fish with bare hands. He doesn’t say anything, choosing to let Jensen pull out his notebook, scribble his nonsense, and maybe try to create the absurd notion that things can be normal between them.

Jensen’s shoulders are tense, hiked up to his ears, and sometimes he’ll glance at Jared like he’s expecting to get hexed when he’s not looking.

Jared keeps to himself, even going so far as to pull out his textbook and thumb to the page Mr. Platt specifies. He’s already done the homework for this week, but whatever. If this is something that’ll make Jensen comfortable, he guesses he’ll do it.

It’s so boring.

He occupies himself by sneaking looks at Jensen; his pointy ears and the intensely focused lines around his mouth, deepening whenever Platt talks about something complicated.

Platt pulls out a pop quiz to prepare them for the finals next week, and although Jared’s not worried, he can see the moment where Jensen realizes he’s fucked.

He’s staring at an _Explain Your Answer_ type question, with half of an equation written out, and Jared cringes at how wrong it is.

He can’t help it. He scoots his paper closer to Jensen’s desk, tilting it so the answer is clear.

Jensen’s gaze shifts over to it, flickering up to Jared’s face. Jared mouths, _squeeze._

He doesn’t smile, but the lines around his mouth loosen softly, and he furiously begins to erase his work and copy down Jared’s.

Jared makes sure to keep it up for the entirety of the quiz, stepping in whenever Jensen gets lost. Normally a guy would feel like he’s winning points for helping a girl on a quiz, but Jared doesn’t feel like he’s winning anything. He feels the same way a person would feel about raising their credit score from red to orange – and damn, if that doesn’t fill him with elation.

Finally, the quizzes are pulled back, success in Jared’s chest for giving Jensen a free A, and Mr. Platt dives back into a lecture. Jensen looks less tense now – possibly even relaxed.

“Thanks,” He whispers, so quiet Jared wonders if he actually meant it.

“Easy A,” Jared grins. “Doesn’t mean I’m easy though.”

“Right,” Jensen murmurs. His head is turned, but Jared can hear a smile.

He reaches into his bag and pulls out a chocolate bar – one of the ones he was planning to use earlier this week on Jensen, had he the chance.

It’s not really an apology. Why would Jared apologize for a kiss? The way he sees it, it’s more like a way back to the where things were; a Bridge to Bromobithia.

He unwraps it and cracks it, holding one half out to Jensen. “It’s fudge.”

Jensen’s eyes zero in on it, but Jared’s not sure why he doesn’t look pleased.

He looks like Jared just tried to hand him a kinder egg filled with tiny razors. His lip twinges, staring up at Jared with a glare that chills the arctic, clearing his throat quietly before speaking.

“S’that like a gay joke or something?”

Jared’s brow furrows. Perhaps the only thing Jensen has in common with Christian is his ability to render Jared speechless. He has no idea how to defend a candy bar from being gay.

Jensen seems to be waiting for an answer though, and when Jared can’t give it, his lips start twisting downwards. His notebook slams away in his bag, and he whips it over his shoulder like if he didn’t leave right this second he’d end up breaking something.

Jared sits there, holding a gay candy bar like an idiot.

*

Christian didn’t need a reason to throw a party, but now that he’s with Sandra, it’s as if APE and Alpha Delta Phi joined forces and they felt the need to celebrate it via beer pong and flip-cup.

It wasn’t a big party, not like the one they had last weekend, but it was going pretty hard. Christian was plastered to Sandra’s hip the whole time, ready to bite off the head of any of the guys who came near her, and Tom kept finding ways to prank Michael whenever he entered a room.

Jared busied himself by dominating everyone in beer pong. He wasn’t drinking that much tonight, mainly because he was still hungover from the night before.

Maybe drinking at this point felt like pouring water down a well.

“Jensen! My man,” Christian hollers from across the room. Jared breaks his clean game just so he can watch Jason leading Jensen into the house, all smiles and waves.

His gut wrenches like a snake ate a bad mouse. He tosses back what’s left of his beer, announces to the table that he’s gonna go grab another, and then marches towards them.

They’re gathered around the flip-cup table, Jensen staring at Sandra and Christian like they’re gross and Jason far too excited to be invited to play.

“Yo Chris, mind handin’ me a beer?” Jared booms, suddenly in Jensen’s space.

“Ya,” Christian grabs a can and tosses it to Jensen, who’s closer. “Hand that to Jaybird, Jen.”

Jensen clenches the can in his thin fingers and watches Jared carefully as he hands it over, like he’s waiting for Jared to drop a bomb or something. “Sure.”

The can bursts open with a cold _schnick_ and Jared swills it back, eyes locked on Jensen.

“So Sandra, when did you and Chris decide to become a thing?” Jason asks Sandra, who’s been staring at Jared this whole time.

“What kind of question is that?” Christian laughs.

“I’m curious, s’that a fucking crime?”

“I don’t know, last week I guess,” Sandra shrugs.

“We were both smashed, dude. Doesn’t matter though. She thinks I’m hotter when I’m drunk,” Christian teases. Sandra smacks his shoulder.

“She thinks you’re hotter when _she’s_ drunk!” Michael shouts from across the room. “Face it Chris, it’s the only reason she got with your ass!”

“Yeah, I know how that is,” Jared decides to say, louder than he intended because he’s angrier than he intended. He’s burning holes into the back of Jensen’s head.

Jensen’s gone stiff, but he still won’t look at him. Eyes locked on the wall.

“Fuck you both,” Christian throws back. “You wanna start shit go ahead.”

“Oh no, someone’s feelings are hurt.” Michael cackles.

“Just leave it baby,” Sandra hisses.

“Better watch your ass, Mikey.” Christian warns.

 _“Oh no!_ He wants my ass! Somebody stop him before the gayness spreads!”

“Too late,” Jared replies for Christian.

This time, Jensen’s head jerks up and he glares right back at Jared – fury that makes Jared’s stomach flip. Jared takes a sip of his beer and drinks it down with pleasure.

“Little shit,” Christian shoots off towards Michael like a missile, bumping into Sandra in the process. She scowls and yells at him to come back, while Jason takes the chance to strike up conversation with her.

The raucous of Christian chasing a gleeful Michael around camouflages the noise of Jensen shoving past Jared hard enough to make him spill his beer.

He doesn’t care – he whips around and follows Jensen out of the room.

Jensen storms into the dark, empty dining room, closed off from the rest of the house because nobody even uses this room except for cram-sessions (which meant nobody was ever in here, ever). He’s darting for the bathroom down the hall but Jared appears in front of him suddenly.

“Fuck off,” Jensen spits, and then turns around to exit the room.

“S’that some sort of gay joke?” Jared follows him hotly.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“You tell me,” He bites. “Maybe you can explain how it feels to be on the receiving end of your fucked up logic for once.”

“Peachy,” Jensen hisses, yanking the door open to run back into the party and hide.

Jared’s not having it – he slams the door shut again from behind Jensen, forcing him to turn around and face him with a steely glare.

“I’m not doing this with you.”

“I know the reason why you haven’t gotten laid all year, Jen.” Jared suddenly blurts, naked and angry. “And I know why you and Chris aren’t tight anymore.”

Fear dances across Jensen’s face like a siren going off. “Get the fuck _away_ from me.”

He shoves Jared away with a robotic flash of limbs. Jared’s back hits the wall and his heart goes into a state of panic at the sight of Jensen twisting the knob and nearly escaping.

“You don’t have to hide it, is all I’m saying,” Jared keeps going, loud. “You don’t have to fight me about it. I _know._ Don’t you want to stop hiding all the fucking time?”

Jensen pauses, hand slipping. Relief blooms in Jared’s chest.

He watches Jensen turn around with the speed of a dead man and look at him like he’s pissed, but tired. He lets go of the knob and meanders to the opposite end of the room, where people are least likely to hear him, and he leans against the wall, tensely.

“Why can’t you just leave it, Jay?” He asks, thin and small under the heavy drone of bass and ugly frat-boy laughter in the next room.

“Because,” Jared shrugs, instantly stepping into his space. “Just because Christian hates it doesn’t mean I do.”

“That’s not the fucking point.” He bites.

“Then what _is_ , Jen?” Jared snarls, hot.

Jensen shakes his head and ducks to the side, ready to bolt, but Jared bars the way with an arm pinned to the wall, caging him in.

“Say you didn’t like it. I dare you. Say it and be honest.”

His mouth is hard, swallowing, eyes softening.

“M’not –” He starts, in a voice that sends Jared back to their first kiss. “M’not gay, Jared.”

“Be honest,” Jared repeats, unyielding.

Jensen’s nostrils flare, eyes bouncing all over Jared’s face.

His mouth opens up for Jared instantly when he pushes into him, swallowing him whole.

He tastes like the twizzlers Jason always brings over for them, tongue licking into Jared’s mouth and his fingers cold when they wind into his hair.

Jared feels like he’s waited months for this – but it’s only been a week. He presses his lips against Jensen so hard he can hear his head knock against the wall, a soft sound stuck in his throat when Jared pushes his whole body against him, shoving a thigh between his legs.

Jensen’s hands fall to his collar and twist, their belt buckles clinking when he instantly grinds.

He’s like a whole other person – starved for it. Desperate.

He drags Jared in with a hand on his thigh and pants, breaths lost between their mouths. They skitter whenever Jared brushes his hard-on, become heavy when he mouths down to Jensen’s neck and bites at where his shirt collar begins.

His hand drops down to Jen’s belt, ready to tear it apart – _“Wait,”_ Jensen stops him.

“What?” Jared frowns because Jensen isn’t drunk this time. He’s perfectly sober, and there’s nothing standing between them anymore. Except clothes.

“Not here,” He mutters, eyes averted. Jared groans.

*

His bedroom upstairs wasn’t the cleanest, and actually he never brought people up here because of how weird that thought is, but he’s slamming through the door with his arms around Jensen before anyone can remind him that he has commitment issues.

He kicks the door closed and locks it, and when he turns around Jensen has fallen back on his bed with eyes wide as saucers. He pulls his shirt over his head, fluffing up his hair in the process, and looks at Jared with a nervous dip in his brow.

Jared tears off his clothes and covers Jensen so quickly the bed _thumps,_ his boxer-clad thighs scratching against Jensen’s denim.

His chest is pumping wildly under Jared’s as he lays waste to it with his lips, kissing and suckling every soft spot. When he bites a nipple, Jensen’s ribs expand in a tight breath, and Jared palms his cock through his jeans just to watch the flush that spreads like fire across his skin.

“Fuck,” He whispers, and hastily undoes his belt for Jared. “Here –”

The word is cut off when Jared digs his hand inside and _finally_ wraps his fingers around Jensen’s hard cock, wet at the tip. He pulls it out sooner than Jensen is ready for and sucks it down, drool rolling down to the base.

Jensen’s moan is shaky – barely a sound, floating into nothing at the end. Jared tugs his pants and boxers down his legs and shucks them quickly before swallowing him again, bobbing his head fast and dirty.

Jensen’s stomach is fluttering unsteadily and his fist is clenched in Jared’s hair, half tugging and half pushing. He can’t see his face that well from this angle, but he can see Jensen’s brow knotting desperately, his mouth in a strain.

“Jay,” He pants. “Fuck –” He sucks down a moan, faint in his throat.

Jared’s throat is filled to the brim with cock, salt running down, cheeks hollowing and fist tightening around the base like a threat. Jensen’s knees shift along the covers restlessly until Jared pushes them up by the thigh, spreading Jensen out like a centerfold. His thighs quiver under Jared’s thumbs, meaty and soft.

His tongue laps downwards, pushing his balls up with every heavy stroke, and loud, wet suckling noises pierce the room when he draws them into his mouth.

Jensen jerks upwards at the sound, sitting up on his elbows with pink, pink cheeks like someone’s going to hear. His mouth hangs open, like he’s going to tell him to be quiet, but Jared doesn’t have the kind of shame Jensen does.

He shoves Jensen’s knees up to his chest so they bracket his pink, drooled on nipples and tongues his way into Jensen’s hole, pressing hot, soaked kisses to the rim.

Jensen’s back arches suddenly, like a cat, and his leg kicks out in a panic, like he’s confused. Jared pins it back in place with an iron hand and continues tongue-fucking him, groaning when he feels Jensen clench instinctively.

“C’mon Jay – that’s,” He hears a wobbly whisper above him, but it’s drowned out by the blood pounding in his ears.

Jensen’s thighs threaten to snap closed every time Jared’s tongue pushes into him, every time a sudden loud _smack_ of lips is heard. Maybe this was too much for someone like Jensen, but Jared can feel his tune change.

He lets his thighs fall open, stay open. Lets his muscles go loose and lets Jared shove his tongue in so deep Jensen’s whole body shivers.

His fingers slowly slip around his knees and he holds himself open for Jared, needy. He can hear his short, rapid-fire breaths hide under sloppy sucking.

Jared hears the faint sounds of skin on skin, and when he looks up Jensen is jacking himself, his cock beaming pink and wet. His cheeks are flushed all the way up to his ears, and his whole body is tightening.

Just the feel of him clenching, the sight of him pinching the spot under the head to keep from coming makes Jared stop and lunge for the lube in the drawer.

Jensen’s brow furrows when his mouth leaves, but when he sees the slick drizzling down his fingers his spine straightens, jacking himself quicker.

“Jay, please,” Comes out. Jared thinks he’s about to say no, like he’s about to look like a real douche with lube all over his cock, but Jensen’s face crinkles with want. “C’mon.”

Jared kisses Jensen with his dirty mouth and Jensen groans, deep. His thighs knock apart for Jared to hold them open with knees, tweaking a nipple with a sharp nail and slick fingers.

When his cock touches Jensen’s hole, he tightens up.

“C’mon,” Jensen hiccups into Jared’s mouth, regardless. “C’mon, do it. Fuck me Jay.”

His hole is sloppy wet and not even stretched, but something tells Jared this isn’t the first time Jensen’s had something huge shoved up into him.

Thinking about how many times Jensen went to his dorm room alone after a party just to fuck himself makes Jared’s hips punch forward, makes him knock unsteady pants out of Jensen’s mouth as he pumps in, balls fat when they press flush against his ass.

Jensen’s face is wrecked, eyes wet when they look up at Jared and beg. Jared fucks into him in sharp, shallow thrusts, grip bruising under Jensen’s knees to keep his ass exposed, so he can watch his cock fuck Jensen open.

“Hold,” Jared pants, referring to his legs, and when Jensen obediently keeps himself spread Jared grabs his thighs and pummels him with jack-rabbit fucks.

Sounds start spilling out of Jensen, loud and shaking moans.

He doubts they can hear them through the bass and the crashes downstairs, but Jensen sounds like it hurts just to make sounds this loud, and Jared keeps punching them out with every heavy grind of his hips, every slap of his balls against his ass.

His back curls up with vulnerable whines when Jared finds a good spot, and he reaches down and squeezes his cock tight. The thought that Jensen could come just from his cock in him makes Jared feel crazy.

He wonders how long Jensen’s been hiding this – how much of a cock slut he is.

“Jay – _uhn,”_ His breath skitters. “Fuckin’ big, Jay, gonna come.”

“Yeah?” Jared leans down and pants into his mouth, pressing the air out of Jensen’s lungs. “Gonna come in you.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Jensen moans. “Fuck me, come in me. Wanna feel it.”

Jared drills in deep, shoving Jensen up tight against the headboard, and when his hips lock they _snap_ , taut.

A soft, broken keen kicks out of Jensen when he feels it, hot and wrong and spilling against his prostate. Jared keeps rolling, pumping his come into him with slow, languid thrusts until Jensen’s hand scrambles to jerk himself off.

He suddenly clenches around Jared, groaning, and his spine bows as he comes in spurts all over himself. Jared stares as it lands in stripes against his throat, his collar. The frantic pumps of his stomach.

Jared hopes everyone’s heard them.

*

“Didn’t use a condom.”

Jensen stirs in his arms, head ducked under Jared’s chin tightly. “M’clean.”

He nods, settling deeper into the mess of blankets and pillows. He’s got one leg sticking out from the covers, which stop at their waists, both too hot but too naked to just fling them off.

They woke up about an hour ago. The sun decided to leak through a very much unwanted break in his blinds and now it streaked their bed in fat yellow stripes. Jared strokes Jensen’s arm lazily, and after a belated moment Jensen’s green eyes pop up at him narrowly.

“Are you?” He asks. Jared scoffs.

“Yeah, I double-wrap dude. Trust me.” He explains, and then frowns. “I just never forget usually.”

There’s a short pause where Jensen wraps his leg around his, feet cold. “Went too fast.”

“I resent that.” Jared says. “Unless you thought it was too fast.”

He tilts his head up at Jared, contemplative. He’s still got a pink stain to his ears and he looks, sort of glowy to Jared.

“No.”

Jared stretches his fingers into the thin blond strands of his hair and combs, feeling how short they are. He wasn’t drunk last night, but it still felt like a blur.

“Y’think anyone heard?” Jensen asks. Of course, that’s what he’s worried about.

“Who cares,” Jared shrugs and pulls Jensen in closer. He doesn’t seem reassured though.

“I do,” He mutters, mouth twisting. He doesn’t turn away, but his head tilts downwards to rest on Jared’s chest, breaking eye contact. It irritates and confuses Jared.

“Christian’s just a guy, Jen.”

“S’not just him.”

“Jason, Michael, all those fuckheads. Same thing.”

“It’s not just that, it’s my whole life, Jared.” He bites. “Christian was just part of it. What am I supposed to do, visit mom and dad over break like this? _Hey mom, hey dad. Merry Queermas.”_

Jared snorts and laughs, chest bouncing under his head. “Please do, and let me watch.”

“Fuck off.” Jensen tries to hiss, but Jared’s not buying it. He leans down and plants a wet one on Jensen’s forehead.

“That’s precious.”

“Sure you wanna smart talk right now? I hit you once.”

“Yeah, yeah you did.” Jared rolls over suddenly and smothers Jensen’s body with his own, their noses brushing. “Never apologized either.”

“Why?”

“Cause it really fucking hurt, that’s why.”

He shrugs. “Pack a good fist for a queer.”

“I’m pretty sure most queers do.” Jared replies.

It takes Jensen a moment to get it. Jared’s learning that Jensen is surprisingly innocent in the gay realm. When it does click to him though, he punches Jared on the shoulder. Jared grabs it and pins it on the mattress, fingers tangling.

Jensen kisses slow and drunk in the mornings, muscles loose like pasta.

“Your mouth tastes like ass,” He says afterward.

“Yeah, your –”

Suddenly something crashes downstairs, jolting them. Jolting _Jensen,_ rather, because as soon as Jared hears Tom and Michael yelling at each other he just rolls over and groans.

Jensen, however, gets up and starts dressing without another word.

*

Going to Mr. Platt’s class after that seemed sort of out of place, almost unnecessary. Technically it was always unnecessarily to Jared, but at least now he had some incentive to go.

He gets into his seat a few minutes earlier than Jensen just to watch him walk in, all pressed and clean and void of any trace of Jared on him.

Except when he sits down, he winces.

Jared tries not to let it show how hard he notices. So far, Jensen hasn’t even looked at him.

But when he sees Jared crouching over in his seat, he glares at him. “Yeah, funny.”

Jared grins at him something wild. “You gonna take notes there, buddy?”

Out of spite, Jensen yanks out his notebook and starts scribbling, promptly ignoring Jared. He leans back in his seat and marinates in a scalding degree of pride for the boy next to him.

*

It feels like hours before Mr. Platt lets out. Jared had to sit attentively in his chair and not try to notice how uncomfortable Jensen looked, how hot he looked. It feels like hours before he’s gonna see him again too.

So as soon as they step out of class and into a sea of students, Jared grabs Jensen by the messenger strap and hauls him into a hallway closet before anyone can notice. It’s a tiny supply closet, big enough for shelves and a mop bucket, but Jared throws Jensen up against the shelves and plasters himself to his back like he’s got a plan.

Jensen’s voice is sharp in alarm. “The hell are you doing?”

“Couldn’t stand seein’ you like that,” He bites Jensen’s earlobe. “Makes me wanna fuck you all the time.”

“Yeah?” Jensen laughs. “Got class in ten.”

Jared suckles Jensen’s pulse, digging his teeth in. His palms skid across Jensen’s front to palm at his chest, one falling to grope at his cock. “Who cares?”

He bends Jensen over a low shelf and grinds into him. Jensen groans. “Gonna kill me with that.”

“With my what?” He sucks the shell of his ear, fingering loose Jensen’s belt so he can sneak a hand down the back of his pants.

Jensen’s breath skitters. “You know what I mean.”

“With my what, Jen?”

His fingers slide down between the fat globes of his ass and dig into the hot, sore hole there. Jensen’s shoulders tighten, instinctively clenching. _“Jay.”_

“Tell me,” He presses, biting his jaw. He can see the flush spreading against his neck, his ears. He rubs his middle finger inwards, loving how Jensen’s ass cheeks just suck his wrist up, how round they look whenever he twists his hand between them.

“Your cock – _ah,”_ Jensen pants when he digs too deep. “Can’t –”

Jared pulls out quickly to uncap the travel K&Y he’s got in his back pocket, the one he stuffed into his backpack this morning. Not cocky, just prepared – is what he told himself.

He drenches his fingers in it, spilling it on the floor for the janitor to find later, and then he pours down the crack of Jensen’s ass just to watch him squirm.

“My fucking jeans,” He hisses, and Jared solves that problem by shoving Jensen’s pants down to his ankles. He bends Jensen lower with a hand between his shoulders, and when his fingers prod at him again he goes stiff. “Fuck – they’ll hear, Jay.”

“I know,” Jared mouths his pulse. “Gonna shove my cock in you Jen, make you so loud.”

He slips into the tender clench of him with one long index, and the air in Jensen’s throat punches out all at once. He can feel how soft and hot he is, sore and easy.

Jensen’s spine stretches as he pushes his ass back, falling down to his elbows on the shelf so he can crane his neck. His eyes sneak up at Jared from beneath twisted eyebrows, flashes of green.

“Ah – _ah_ , watch it,” He stutters, clenching around him.

“S’matter?” Jared’s eyes flicker. “You scared, Jen? Don’t want anyone to know how much you like it?”

 _“Jay,”_ He warns – and breaks off into a tight, closed-mouth keen when Jared pushes another finger into him. He pumps him full, reaching for the spot he rammed into so many times last night.

Jensen’s back is tight, body tense like he’s white-knuckling the shelf.  Jared swallows down his grin and leans down, covers his shoulders.

“Don’t want them to know how much you like cock, Jen?” He breathes into his ear. “How much you like your ass played with?”

“Fuck,” He shudders under Jared, thighs spasming, and Jared thrusts faster. “Fuck – _fuck you.”_

Jared bites his neck, worrying the flesh between his teeth with a groan. He hits a sweet spot – he can feel the way Jensen shivers, like a tell, and then instantly shifts to try and dislodge him. Jared wraps his other arm around Jensen’s chest like an anchor and _spears_ into him, nudging that center inside of him until he’s panting – hiccupping moans that are too broken to be loud.

“C’mon Jen, let me hear,” He whispers.

 _“Fuck you,”_ Jensen hisses. “You and your fucking – _ah –_ huge _cock_.”

Jared punches into him harder, sparks flying in his chest – he knew Jensen was a size queen. He shoves a third finger into him and gets exactly what he expects; Jensen _keens,_ red mouth falling open.

He looks back, hand reaching back to grasp a cheek and pull it back so he can see Jared stuffed all up in his ass. His eyebrows crumple desperately, and he moans at the heel of Jared’s hand hitting him every time he drives in.

“Jay – _uhn,_ c’mon Jay, _”_ He whispers, brokenly. “Please,”

“What?”

“Just do it,” He tries to plead in the softest, quietest voice. Jared moves the arm around Jensen’s chest so he can run a hand through his hair, pulls it back so he can feel Jensen’s lips against his, his neck craning.

“Do what Jen?” Jared says against his mouth.

He can feel Jensen’s arms shaking below. His skin is pink, flush bleeding heavy.

“Fuck me Jay,” He says, unsteadily. “M’gonna come if you don’t fuck me, now.”

A tight sound is caught in his throat when Jared kisses him, feels how hot his skin is. He knows Jensen’s must feel embarrassed right now, with everyone who passes by the thin door hearing him beg, but Jared doesn’t care.

He thinks it’s hot. The way his words wobble, the way he clenches up every other second nervously, the way he fervently tries to keep himself tight and in control. It makes him want to fuck Jensen up against a window, just to see him squirm.

His mouth hangs open when Jared finally shoves himself inside, his thick, rod-straight dick stretching his sore hole open so far he has to kick his legs out further just to squeeze him in. He bends his knees, sticking his ass to take more, and the sight of his bubble butt sucking him in gets him so bad he smacks one cheek – watching it turn pink.

Jensen instantly lets out a high sound – _“Jay.”_ He warns.

Jared just buries his nose in his nape and groans. “Yeah?”

His hips rock forward just as Jensen is about to answer. He can hear the moment where his breath gets sucked away, skittering.

“Go slow,” He tries, shakily.

Jared rolls in deeper and Jensen shudders, shoulders weakening, then he full-on _thrusts_ and feels him fall back down to his elbows against the shelf. He’s letting out this unsure warble under his breath; an endless moan that trembles in his throat.

Jared knows he’s losing it – he can see him fidget.

“Jay,” He tries again, as Jared speeds up. “Please,”

His hips _smack_ against Jensen, loud – and a moan blurts out of him from how deep Jared is.

“Fuck - _fuck_ ,” He stammers. “I can’t – _ah_ , yeah – like that. Fuck me like that, Jay – please.”

He trails off into this soft mantra of _fuckfuckfuck_ to match Jared’s pace, the shelf wobbling noisily beneath them. He knows they’re loud now. Jensen’s forehead is pressed against his forearms and he’s shoving back onto Jared’s cock, ass bouncing so hard that Jared could stop moving right now and Jensen would be still be going.

“Y’like that?” Jared breathes against his ear – just to hear Jensen moan.

“Y-Yeah Jay,”

“Y’gonna let me fuck you all the time like this? Whenever I want?”

“Whatever you want,” He tries, but the syllables are thumped apart by Jared’s cock. “Ah – _ah,”_

Jared leans back and _smacks_ his ass again. Jensen instantly whines, _“Fuck_ Jay, yeah, whenever.”

Warmth spills down his spine. His hands wrap around Jensen’s hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh and he starts drilling into him so hard his sounds are reduced to hiccups.

Jared feels high. His eyes are locked at Jensen’s hole, so tight and pink and stretched around his girth. His right cheek is an angry red in the shape of his palm, ass round and shaking against the slap of his hips, globular enough to look like it was bursting from between his fingers whenever he dug into the taut flesh. When he slaps it again, sound whiplash-loud, he can feel Jensen clench.

Jensen takes it so good. His muscles are a mess of shakes, his cock leaking onto the floor in thick white drops, but he’s too busy holding himself up against Jared’s thrusts to touch it. He just hangs his head and sobs; soft, high stutters that beg at Jared.  His eyebrows are tangled together desperately, red mouth hanging, and when he turns his head to give Jared some needy green eyes he nearly comes right then. His gaze is drugged.

“Y’gonna come in me Jay?” He pleads. “Fucking do it, come in me.”

Jared groans and pounds into him quicker. He can barely hear him over the raucous from the shelf jostling around, but he can see Jensen’s hand when it sneaks back to spread himself. He hisses when he touches the red skin of his cheek, but a groan pours out of him when he sees Jared’s horse cock shoving into him frantically.

“So fuckin’ big, oh – _fuck,”_ He whines. “C’mon Jay, _please –_ come in me. I can’t –”

Jared’s hand drops to the wet, drooling cock beneath him and fists it. Jensen gasps – sound pooling against his forearm. He pumps him hard and quick, grip clenched strangle-tight, feeling the way Jensen spasms around him.  Come seeps through his fingers, skin hot in his palm, and when he finally comes Jared doesn’t feel it so much as he hears Jensen muffle a sharp, desperate keen.

“Fuck,” Jared stares at the puddle painting the linoleum between their sneakers.

Jensen drops his head and moans weakly, pressing his ass back against Jared.

He picks up his stuttered pace and keeps fucking him, tighter now. He can’t imagine how sore Jensen must be at this point, his muscles loose around Jared, limp and drunk as he comes down with Jared still rutting into him. His hand reaches back to pull Jared in by the hip.

Jared can see his green eyes zeroing out on the sight behind him, mouthing to himself – _big._

He comes with a deep groan against Jensen’s ass, filling him up in spurts and thick stripes, gripping his hips hard enough to drag him along when he rocks back and forth.

A faint sound comes from Jensen, barely heard over the blood in his ears, but it sounds like a grunt as Jared wedges in as deep as he can go. Keeping him stuffed while he comes down – wants to make sure it stays in all day.

“The fucking floor,” Jensen groans when he finally lifts himself off the shelf. Jared pulls him close and bites his neck, content. “M’not cleaning that.”

“I plan on it,” He grins. Jensen cranes his neck to glare.

“We can’t just leave it.”

Jared shrugs.

They leave it.

*

The screen door squeaks behind Jared as he steps out of the frathouse, Marlboro red in hanging from his fingers, bass thumping and laughter cracking from behind him. The grass is wet with dew from the early morning hours. He can feel the cold licking his ankles as he wanders to the shady corner of the backyard where there’s a bench. It’s icy against his back.

The _schnick_ of a lighter resounds, percussion against cricket choir.

He’s barely halfway down the stem before the screen door whines again. Jensen’s shouldering through with grins at the guys. He didn’t even wait more than ten minutes to follow Jared out. He thought he’d be subtler than that – would expect a person like Jensen to be. But who knows; there might never be an end to how many times Jared was wrong about Jensen.

“Gimme,” Jensen falls on his lap and plucks his cigarette away. Jared’s arms naturally fold around his waist, scooting him further in. Smoke rolls across Jared’s face. “Your thighs are bony.”

“You wanted to sit on them.”

“Don’t blame the victim.” He passes it back to Jared. “M’thinking about cutting out of here in about an hour. You game?”

“You’re so old.” Jared snorts. Jensen just nods – _yup._ “What’re you afraid of? Letting the guys see how much of a slut you are when you’re drunk?”

“You like it.”

“Yeah,” Jared sucks one in and passes it back, thoughtfully. “Yeah, I do.”

Jensen grins and wiggles his ass against him. Jared bops his knee, watching him wince – _“Don’t.”_

“Mm,” He vibrates into Jensen’s neck. He can feel him groaning.

It’s been nearly a week, and things haven’t changed for them. Nobody knew about them – Jensen’s orders, of course – but Jared didn’t care. For him, Jensen could go haywire at any time and call the whole thing off.

He was just flipping coins to see if they could make it to a month.

Smoke billows against Jared’s face as Jensen leans in, passing it back.

“I never asked you back,” He murmurs, quiet and thoughtful.  

“Asked me what?”

Jensen doesn’t look him in the eye. “If we’re going too fast.”

Jared can taste Jensen’s lips on the filter. He lets the moment bleed.

It didn’t feel like his life was going anywhere right now.

“No,” He winds his arms around Jensen, warmly. “Feels slow to me, rather keep it that way.”

 


End file.
